Circus Monster
by My Golden Wings
Summary: AU. When the Team investigates the circus, run by Tony Zucco, on suspicion of illegal activities, they didn't imagine the simple mission would become a fight over a creature who calls himself Robin.
1. Prologue

A/N

Loosely based on the song Circus Monster by CircusP.

I've had this plot in my back pocket for ages, and I hadn't meant to start posting this already, especially at the beginning of Camp NaNoWriMo, but inspiration struck a few days ago and I had to begin this fic. Updates will be sporadic.

* * *

"Little Robin, where are you?"

The six-year-old boy in question sniggered madly and slithered further underneath his family's caravan. His mother, Mary, was so close, but she didn't seem to have heard him shuffling. He watched her feet pace around the caravan, occasionally halting as she looked about crates and banners or in baskets of dirty laundry. Finally, she stopped two feet away, near enough for him to reach out and grab her ankle.

"Maybe you're — here!" Mary exclaimed, and Robin heard the swoosh of curtains opening. He smacked his pudgy hands over his mouth in a furious battle to hold back his peels of laughter. He had to win, if only to have the satisfaction of winning; at best, he wouldn't have to take a bath. He couldn't afford to lose. Giggles slipped by nonetheless, his shoulders shaking wildly. Upon realizing how absurd he sounded and how ridiculous he must look with his red, puffy cheeks, gave in, releasing high-pitched gales of laughter.

"Ah-ha! There you are!" said his mother humorously, her long red hair, green eyes and athletic figure coming into view. His mirth was unrelenting, even as Mary dragged him out from his hiding spot. She pulled him into her arms, chuckling gaily, and asked, "What's so funny, Robin? Is it — this!" Her hand dove at his tummy and tickled him mercilessly.

The effect was swift: Robin' hands morphed into scaly, black claws as he stuck out at his mother's arm. She jerked back, dropping Robin onto the dusty ground. Neither was laughing anymore.

"Richard!" said Mary sharply. Robin recoiled, guilt and revulsion pouring into his stomach like some wicked potion. He didn't know where to look — his mother's eyes exuded distress and his once-again human hands had fresh red blood beneath the finger nails. The sickness reach new heights when he caught sight of the way his mother was clasping her forearm, rivulets of blood seeping between her fingers, dripping one drop after another into the dirt. An aching force pushed at the backs of his eyes. Breathing became an arduous task.

"Mom-Mommy — I'm sorry. I didn't mean to —"

"It's all right. It's okay. Let me fix this now —" Mary stated firmly, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. She retracted her hand, revealing four deep slashes near her wrist. But suddenly her pink human flesh was replaced by black scales. Her hand grew to almost twice the size, taking on a shape closer to a bear's claw. Her nails became thicker, sharper, and three inches longer, like the talon's of an eagle, only more intimidating. Robin was not afraid, though. He was the same as his parents, and the three of them transformed whenever they could without the threat of getting caught. He was, however, mesmerized when the flesh of his mother's arm slowly sealed up as if by four invisible zippers. After several minutes of intense concentration, the slashes were fully healed, leaving behind thick white scars.

Mary let out a sigh, her arm morphing back into a human one, and shot Robin a reprimanding look. The guilt of hurting his mother welled up, and, try as he might, Robin could not prevent his lips from trembling. He shut his eyes tight and shook where he sat haphazardly on the ground.

"Come here."

His mother's voice was soft, yet firm. Robin didn't move, but when he felt the inviting caress of his mother's arms, threw himself into her embrace and belted out a loud, pitiful sob. Apologizing between sobs and sniffles, he wailed, "I'm s-sorr-ry. I-I'm sorry, M-Mommy —"

Mary gently shushed him, rocking him back and forth. It was incredibly relaxing, like sailing on a peaceful sea. He curled deeper into his mother's breast, seeking comfort and forgiveness in her warmth and proximity. Mary hummed a little tune, and Robin's cries quietened as they sat on the ground. She kissed his mangy black hair, then settled her cheek on his head.

"It's all okay, Little Robin. It was my fault. The same thing happened with my mom and me when I was your age. Shhh…it happens to all of us."

Robin sniffled, still too sorry to speak.

"Do you know why I was upset?"

He nodded into her shirt. He hurt his mommy, that was why. Mary didn't seem to believe him, though.

"I was upset because I am scared at the thought of the wrong people discovering our secret. We need to resist the instinctual habit to revert to our other form, unless it is a life or death situation. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Robin squeaked. There were some words he didn't understand, but he got the gist: Don't let anyone know what you are unless Mommy says so. Mary set him back down and brushed the dust from her jeans, then from all of Robin's clothes. Once satisfied, she clasped his hand and the two of them trod around and into their caravan. The inside was tight, but also homey and tranquil, decorated with deep reds and brilliant yellows.

Mary sat him on the window seat next to a three-cupboard kitchenette before disappearing into the single bedroom. Robin wiped the last tear stains from his face, listening to the light thumps of his mother searching for something. When she padded into the living area a minute later she had an old worn-out brown leather photo album with her. She sat onto the bench without her usual grace and flipped the album to the first page. They came face-to-face with dark scaly creatures. It was the album containing pictures of his family's true selves — well, the other half. There was another album somewhere, a white one, with pictures of them in human form which they'd show to people not in the know. Robin much preferred reminiscing through the brown album.

"We all feel fear, you understand that, right?" Mary asked Robin. He nodded idly as he scrutinized a photo of himself climbing on the broad back of his father, John. His toddler-self was pulling John's hair while his mother laughed and patted the man on his arm. "It's okay to be afraid. There are people afraid of spiders, the dark, failing a test, losing a loved one…and many other things. But some people have fears that make them dangerous. These people can be afraid of losing control over their own lives or the lives of others...They can also be afraid of other people and…creatures they don't understand."

Robin's nose scrunched up and he shifted uncomfortably on the squashy rubber seat, accidentally creating rumbling fart noises. He burst into another fit of giggles. Mary chuckled softly, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Robin wasn't stupid — he knew that look. He knew his mother was sad.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" he asked quietly, grabbing her hand like his father usually did.

"I'll be fine, Little Robin. Thank you," Mary said as she stroked back his bangs and cupped his cheeks in her hands, lifting his face toward hers. "Do you understand what I was saying?"

"No."

Mary's face became strained, and for a moment Robin panicked, thinking he had disappointed her and should have answered 'yes,' but then her gaze softened and she continued.

"Listen very carefully now — There are people who fear us because we are only part human. This fear makes them want to hurt us, belittle us, and control us. If they cannot do those things, then they'll seek to destroy us. I don't want you to be afraid of these people, only cautious...But if you are afraid at any time, for any reason, do not forget who you are. Do you know who you are?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Dick Grayson — Merondach. Part human, part creature."

"Yes, but that's not all. You are also kind, curious, accepting, and more…so much more…. Whenever you're afraid, remember who you are, and you can get through anything —"

BANG!

The sharp echo of a gunshot tore through the air. The blast seemed to pierce Robin's heart, paralyzing him. None of the circus acts involved firing guns, unless the cannon counted. He made to ask his mother what was going on, but she had already snatched him up, the photo album thudding against the floor, and was running into the bedroom. It was then that he heard both pained and angry shouts emanating from the big top, before they were drowned out by a barrage of gunfire.

Mary thrust of a tiny closet, sat Robin on the floor inside, and hastily began pulling clothes from their hangers, throwing them haphazardly over him. Her hands were shaking so violently she could barely manage to grip the clothing, and her eyes were wide with worry. Robin had never seen his mother like this before, and it make him that much more frightened. He wanted to cry and cuddle up in his mother's arms again. Once he was covered so thoroughly that only his eyes were peaking out from beneath the layers, Mary squatted and pointed at a ring latch in the floorboard.

"If anyone walks in here," she said urgently, "and it's not me, Daddy, one of the strongmen or Pop Haley, or they don't use the code word, open this hatch. You'll fall through. When you do, run. Disappear. I'll find you."

Robin felt his mind swirl. Everything was happening too fast and he didn't understand. Another gun set off, much too close to their caravan, and the two of them winced. His mother grabbed him where she assumed his cheeks were and gave Robin a kiss between the eyes.

"Be strong. I'll be right back," she said vehemently, then sprung from the floor and slammed the closet door. The sound of rapid footfalls grew quieter as she retreated from the room, pausing at the creak of the door, and continued past the bedroom window.

And so Robin waited with baited breath, straining his hearing to catch what was going on. The shouts and gunfire raged on, accompanied by the occasional crash of wood and explosion from the cannon. The closet was snug, hot from the summer heat, and pitch-black. Robin would've thought it a good place to play had his veins not been flowing with ice cold terror. Where was his mother? She said she'd be coming back, but as the battle outside grew louder he began to think it was an empty promise. Biting back a sob, he rubbed at his eyes. The trumpet of elephants blared and Robin felt the Earth tremble.

 _Zitka! Eleanor!_

He had no time to panic — a prominent bang resounded, then a scream and the roar of lions. One last gun went off, and all fell silent. The world seemed to slow down. The gears in Robin's head didn't want to turn. Instinct took over. He could feel in his heart a terrible truth. No matter how hard he tried to deny it — his parents were dead. He was alone.

"Mom…?"

* * *

*Merondach is pronounced "mer-on-dak." It's a creature I created for the purpose of this fanfic.


	2. Chapter 2

_7 YEARS LATER_

Dark storm clouds tumbled on the horizon, but the residents of Mount Justice only acknowledged the burning sun above. A light refreshing breeze flowed over the clean yellow beach beside the mountain, the trees bristling in response, the waves bubbling up onto the sand. The scene was serene. The Team had nothing to worry about...well, almost nothing.

"Ugh," Wally groaned, lying prostrate on his towel. He was beyond bored. The Team hadn't had a mission in weeks, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. Life pretty much consisted of school, mundane patrols, training, and hanging out on the beach, which was fun...the first week, but now he wanted something completely out of the ordinary. "Ugh."

He rolled his head to the side to see if anyone was listening. Megalicious was splashing around waist deep in the surf; Conner, who had finished debating whether or not to join M'gann after seeing Kaldur lift her onto his shoulders, went marching in after her, his scowl more prominent than ever; and Artemis was lying flat on her stomach in a smoking hot red bik — er — working on her tan...It didn't make any sense to him how lying down could be considered working. You're resting, you're not working. But what did he know — whenever he forgets to lather himself up in sunscreen, he ends up resembling a red pepper and needing a doctor — Dr. Pepper….Wow, he needed to get out if the sun...If only he could will his sluggish body to pick itself up.

"Ugh."

"Dammit, Baywatch," Artemis growled into her towel, keeping her eyes closed. "What are you — constipated?"

"Only thing constipated around here is your personality," he quipped back.

Artemis smirked slyly, one eye now open and glinting mischievously at him.

"Hmmm, but you must like it, considering _you're_ the one who laid your towel so close to _mine_."

Wally was going to retort with a witty comeback, he really was, but Red Tornado had just arrived on the beach to inform the Team of a new mission, so naturally he bolted back inside the mountain with glee — glee that was short-lived.

 _Please, be video. Please, please, be video —_

There was only one downside to going on new missions — Batman assigned them. It had been a miracle that he had even allowed the Team to form in the first place. Wally could only assume the other Leaguers had made a case for it. Soon after inception, the Team discovered why he was called the Dark Knight. And it wasn't because he apparently had good morals whilst being an unsocial badass. No, he's called the Dark Knight, because even when things go well, he still looks like he's ready to be your worst nightmare, whatever that means at the time to the individual, criminal or vigilante, at his mercy. Even compliments seemed unwelcome on good days. Thus, the downside to new missions was having to communicate with Tall, Dark and Brooding. So when he saw the Batman on screen rather than in person, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he heard a gruff voice speak, disdain unmistakable:

"Enjoying the sun, Kid Flash?"

Wally locked his eyes on peeved face of Batman, which, truthfully, was just as terrifying on the room-sized screen as in person, and balked when he understood that his mental sigh was actually highly conspicuous.

"Um- gah- uhhh-"

Wally was saved by the arrival of his teammates, who crowded around him, now wearing shirts and shorts. He glanced down at his bare chest and swim trunks and realized what an amateur the Dark Knight must think he is. He was abashed, his facing feeling hot, or maybe it was just the heat of the sun. But he wasn't alone in his discomfort. In his peripheral vision (the Dark Knight perceives it as a weakness to look away from him), he saw M'gann fiddling with her fingers, Kaldur straightening himself as if to appear more authoritative and Artemis rapidly tapping her foot, hands in her shorts pockets. They all felt the way he did around the Batman — stupid, timid, and wanting to prove him- or herself — except maybe Conner, whose arms were crossed over his chest and eyes were attempting to emanate strength, but he only came off as defiant.

"You have a mission for us?" asked Kaldur.

"There'd hardly be a reason for me to call otherwise," said Batman brusquely, his voice gravelly, like he'd gargled rocks. He didn't spare another moment as he got down to business, the picture of a young man in regal clothing appeared on the right half of the screen. "This is Buhan, Prince of Krazuhria. Four days ago, his jewelry was robbed from his person and bank accounts hacked, resulting in a loss of more than twenty-five million dollars."

"This sounds like a job for the authorities," interjected M'gann, and Wally winced. She couldn't have waited just another ten seconds to ask a question? Not that he could get upset with his Green Cheeks. "Not us. What's so heinous about hackers? Aren't we supposed to go after super villains? Or, at least, someone who's bound to harm someone innocent?"

Batman was not happy about being interrupted, his eyes narrowing just enough for the Team to see his horrible displeasure.

"You've been clamoring for a mission, and now you have one," said Batman coldly. "If you're too good for it, stay behind. We don't need another failed mission. You'll be no loss to the team." M'gann shrank back and kept her eyes on the floor. Wally felt mortified for her. Conner moved like he was going to retort, but Batman was already continuing, M'gann's submissive posture being an adequate response to his disapproval. "It's your mission because the authorities are too incompetent to get within a hundred feet of the culprits, and I have better things to do than to chase around these... _harmless_ hackers."

He paused a moment, as if waiting for someone to dare speak again. Wally's face was turning red with contempt for the Dark Knight. Once again, he was treating the team like children who couldn't handle the big missions and Wally was sick of it. How he wished Batman would get a taste of his own medicine.

"Buhan was unaware that anything was stolen until his treasurer informed him of the loss yesterday," Batman continued. "His own investigators believe the hackers socially engineered the theft, however, the prince has rejected the implications and insists on pursuing other angles."

"Doesn't he have quite a lot of debt? Couldn't he have paid someone to steal from him so that he could receive the insurance money?" Kaldur questioned. Wally imagined throwing a flour balloon in his face. Batman's black mask wrinkled as his face pulled into a glower.

"If you'd shut up so that I can finish briefing you, then you _might_ find out why that is not the case," he snarled, staring them all down with such intensity that Wally suddenly felt quite small and ridiculous. Kaldur's soldier-like stance faltered a little under his gaze. Conner's sneer fell and he suddenly didn't seem so sure of himself. Artemis wasn't too affected, she just looked more like a teenager in a costume than an actual vigilante. "Further research shows that over the course of the last few months thieves have been stealing valuable jewelry and bank account numbers on grander and grander scales. They're getting greedy and it's calling attention to their crimes. The thefts have accumulated in damages totaling over sixty million U.S. dollars. There is only one clear connection between these thefts — they all took place in the same towns on the same days that Haley's International Traveling Circus was visiting."

Batman's face disappeared from the screen and was replaced by the pictures of a circus and a broad, muscular man dressed in a navy blue tux. He had a bulgy face, greying brown hair and a malicious hunger seeping from his eyes despite his apparent attempts to look personable.

"This is Tony Zucco — suspected Mafia boss and the current ringleader of Haley's Circus, having obtained ownership of the business seven years ago. Any and all evidence of his crimes went missing two years ago before the police were ready to make a case against him, and notable thefts began to occur soon after. Zucco is suspected of money laundering, grand larceny, theft...the list of possible charges goes on, but as it is, the proof is lacking substance. The real setback, however, is the police's inability to physically get near the circus grounds. Every dispatched unit has returned unaware that they had ever left for the circus. For this reason, I suspect there is something more to these crimes.

"This is a recon mission — find out if Zucco is behind the crimes and how he accomplishes them. The circus arrived in Gotham three hours ago. The performance begins in one hour. Keep me apprised of any developments. Should you find anything substantial or dangerous, alert me and I will give you instructions on how to proceed based on your findings. Action might be required depending on how the situation develops. Get changed and leave immediately. Any questions? No? Good. Don't screw up this time."

Without another word, Batman vanished as the screen went black. Wally let loose a breath he'd been holding, his shoulders sagging. Dang, was he glad that was over with. No one said a word. Artemis let out a whistle in the reigning silence.

"Damn. Can you imagine if _he_ had a protege?" she said as the Team turned around to go the changing rooms. "I'd rather we get another Baywatch before we wind up with a junior bat."

"He'd probably brood all over the food," grumbled Wally as he eyed the fridge, his stomach instantly aching in hunger. "I'd never have an appetite again."

Artemis scoffed.

"You'll always have an appetite."

Kaldur smiled ruefully and said, "Wally not having an appetite is as likely as Batman having a protege — it would never happen."

"Of course, it wouldn't," said Artemis, smiling smugly like she was trying to imagine such a thing. "He's the most unpleasant, stubborn, aggressive, surly Leaguer of them all — the only one who we know for sure could never have a protege. The world would implode first."

"Any protege of his would only spell trouble for us," said Wally, pushing open the door to the changing room.

Conner shrugged.

"Guess we lucked out."

* * *

Five minutes later, Wally, now Kid Flash, was zipping into the Bioship, the rest of the Team trailing behind. They were going on their first mission in weeks and it was to the circus! It was going to be a ridiculously good mission; Not hiding on a rooftop somewhere for 3 hours, waiting for something, anything, to happen, only for something to go utterly wrong. He could barely manage to sit still in his seat, overcome with enthusiasm. He'd never been to the circus before, but they were going to one now — for a mission!

The rest of the team settled into their respective seats and the belts molded over their torsos. M'gann placed her hands on the two glowing white spheres in front of her to guide the ship out of the hangar.

Wally couldn't find it in himself to quit fidgeting in his seat, the excitement too much. He looked out the window to watch the ship take off from the ground, pressing his nose against the glass (or what he assumed to be glass). They'd taken the Bioship on many missions, they had nothing to worry about. He was just about to strike up their necessary conversation about the mission, get the lowdown on the plan, when the Bioship jolted violently. His forehead knocked against the window, shocking the life out of Wally's system. He groaned.

"Hey! What happened?"

"We hit the wall!"

Wally looked around to see the others shaking the sudden burst of nerves away, and they all glanced back at M'gann, whose eyes were wide and hands were covering her mouth.

"Sorry! So sorry! Oh dear, that was so clumsy of me —" she rambled, repositioning her hands on the orbs. Wally frowned. M'gann was a pro at flying the ship. Why did they crash?

"What's wrong, M'gann?" asked Kaldur, sympathetically.

"Oh. Nothing. Nothing really. It's just..."

"It's what Batman said, isn't it?" Artemis growled knowingly.

"Really, I think Batman was cheerier than usual," said Wally. "Maybe he caught a really psychotic villain last night and he's kicking it back. Y'know, 'job well done, gonna go brood just a little bit less now.' "

"Whether he was in a good mood or not, he didn't have to say those things to M'gann," argued Superboy, who had gotten out of his chair. He walked over to M'gann and comfortingly put one of his hands on hers. Wally couldn't help but notice the red tinge spread over M'gann's green cheeks. He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"He could've said so much worse," insisted Artemis scathingly. Wally could see in the reflection in the window that she wasn't paying much attention to what was going on behind her, having sunk in her chair with her arms crossed. "It was probably his own twisted way of telling us that all missions are important, that we shouldn't think that any job is too small. Don't want anyone slacking off, y'know — not that I think you think you're 'too good' to go on this mission, M'gann. I totally get what you were saying. How much is it supposed to matter to us when someone is stealing large amounts of money if no one seems to be in any physical or mental danger? Not that we don't care —"

But Wally could tell that M'gann wasn't really paying too much attention to the conversation anymore as Superboy went back to his seat. She put her hands once more on the orbs, looking more confident and prideful. The Bioship gracefully exited the hangar.

They were off to the circus.

* * *

A/N _Posted August 18, 2015_

Ohhh, Robin would literally spell trouble, wouldn't he? T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

 _Questions:_

1) Who do you want Robin to really bond with on the Team?

2) Which pairings do you want, if any? (For now I'm going with canon.)(I won't pair Robin with anyone.)

3) Do you want Roy to show up?

4) Anyone know a Beta who can help me with humor? Send me a message, please! (I feel like there are instances where there could be a witty joke, but I just don't know how to accomplish it.)


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